


Trapped

by InannaMaat, MikoAkako



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Art, Dragons, M/M, Magic, Sorcerers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InannaMaat/pseuds/InannaMaat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikoAkako/pseuds/MikoAkako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t always like this. At least, he thinks it wasn’t always like this but sometimes he can’t be sure. Sometimes, when he stands on the tallest tower and closes his eyes, he could imagine he was flying, soaring above the countryside.</p>
<p>J2 fic set in a fantasy world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Art is by InannaMaat.  
> Story is by MikoAkako

It wasn’t always like this. At least, he thinks it wasn’t always like this but sometimes he can’t be sure. His memory is hazy and it seems like no matter how hard he tries, his past slips away just when he thinks he might be getting a hold on it. It’s frustrating, to feel like a stranger in his own skin. To feel like he should be able to close his eyes and escape.

Sometimes, when he stands on the tallest tower and closes his eyes, he could imagine he was flying, soaring above the countryside, eating the miles in bounds. But then his eyes open and he’s just standing at the top of the watchtower. The small village just visible at the edge of sight, and he could almost imagine he is able to see people going about their nightly chores as the sun begins to disappear from sight.

It takes no imagination to see the sorcerer. Jensen has been watching the man all day. He’s now so close that Jensen can make out his features and all doubt that the man was mundane were lost. Even without the brown robes marking him as a novice sorcerer, the magic practically oozes from his pores and Jensen shivers unconsciously. This isn’t the first sorcerer to approach the castle, but never before has Jensen been able to see that shimmer so clear before. Maybe this one will find what the others were looking for and make it out alive.

Jensen watches him for hours, long after the sun sets and the man falls asleep after doing something with a circle of salt and an outpouring of magic that Jensen can smell even from miles away. When it becomes clear that nothing will happen until morning, Jensen retreats back into the castle to carry out  _his_ nightly ritual. He’s been trapped for so long that the days and nights blend together and he doesn’t remember if it was months or weeks or years, but no matter how long it is his nights are always spent the same way.

He tries going East first, marking each door as he walks through it, using a piece of charcoal at each turn he takes so he knows where he’s been. Sure enough, within fifteen minutes he’s standing in front of a door marked with a black ‘X.’ Instead of acting on his frustration, he turns on his heel and heads the other direction. The doors are all unmarked and he begins the process again. By the time he opens a door five stories down and finds himself on the watch tower, the sun is rising and the sorcerer has already begun his trek towards the castle.

Jensen watches him all day, perched on the top of the wall. He’s fascinated by the sorcerer; however brief a distraction he will be from the monotony of solitary life. The closer he gets the more detail Jensen can pick up. It was obvious from the start that he was young, but his face betrays his youth where his body hints at adulthood. Jensen would guess he’s no older than 23 and for the first time he doubts his guess that Jared could possibly be on his Blessing Quest.

When young sorcerers finish their training, usually close to their third decade, they embark on the right of passage – the Blessing Quest – that allows them to become full members of their respective guilds. For many it is a suicide mission, for the quest requires them to seek out one of the many creatures who are more magic than mundane. If the creature deems the sorcerer or sorceress worthy, the blessing is bestowed. Often the creature finds the man or woman lacking and, if in a generous mood, sends them away. When luck is not on the sorcerer’s side, death is inevitable.

It isn’t until the sun is once again sinking below the horizon that Jensen realizes the sorcerer will make it to the castle just before dark.  Mind made up impulsively, Jensen launches himself off the wall and makes his way through the castle. The redirecting doors work in his favor sometimes. As long as he isn’t trying to get out, he can go wherever he wants in a fraction the time, which is how he makes it to the entrance hall well before the sorcerer. He takes up a perch on the top of a crumbling pillar, using the cracks to climb up just before the hall opens and Jensen gets a glimpse of the outside – odd because when he opens it usually leads to the third floor in the south wing.

The sorcerer isn’t stupid, walking in with his magic dampened down so far that Jensen almost thinks he was mistaken but then he sees the shimmer and knows he wasn’t. It’s smart because all he knows of magic creatures are that they are drawn to magic, threatened by humans who dare to wield it in their presence. All of the other sorcerers came in with shields drawn like a giant beacon calling whatever it was they were seeking in the ruined castle.

“Hello?” The man’s voice is rich and deep, exactly what Jensen would expect from seeing him. There’s a slight hesitance to his step, but his face is expressive as he looks around Jensen’s home. A sense of pride wells up when the man looks impressed by the height of the ceiling, towering almost beyond sight and if the windows were clean and not grungy from years of disuse, the sculptures and paintings on the ceiling would gleam in vibrant detail.

For a moment, Jensen considers answering the greeting, dropping to the ground and exposing himself to the sorcerer. But he’d made that mistake with the first sorcerer, asking for help only to be tied up and nearly killed. Since then he follows but never speaks. Not that they last long anyway. Usually between the third and fourth day, after Jensen snuck away to check the skies, they met whatever they were looking for – some kind of monster by the way their bodies were mangled beyond all recognition.

He keeps his mouth shut in the end, contenting himself to watch from the shadows as the sorcerer makes his way through the entrance hall, using a torch to dispel shadows in all the corners until he is sure there is no one else. Several times he comes close to Jensen’s hiding spot, but the pillar is tall enough that the light doesn’t reach the top and the sorcerer doesn’t risk magic to send the light higher. Nevertheless, when the searching ends, Jensen breathes a sigh of relief and watches a nightly task that has become as familiar as his own.

First the sorcerer draws the circle in salt, making it large enough to hold himself and all his belongings. Normally a fire would be next, but the man has no wood set out for one and sure enough when he sits on the ground he reaches into the pack for food, not a lighter. When he finally lies down and his breath evens out in sleep, Jensen dares climb down and approach.

The salt ring wouldn’t keep him out, he knows, but he doesn’t get close enough to test it out, skirting around the edges until he’s on the far side of the room. As tempting as it is to watch the man all night, Jensen can’t abandon his search for anything so he slips away and spends the night searching without luck not that he expected anything to change.

Watching the sorcerer quickly becomes boring. He never attempted magic, preferring to do everything the mundane way. No light shows or anything, even when a wall collapsed on him and Jensen almost rushed forward to help. The sorcerer moved quicker than his height suggested, dodging just out of the way as the stones fell. Jensen was impressed, watching him closer after that.

On the fourth day, Jensen realized the Sorcerer was heading into a part of the castle abandoned even before the rest. The foundation was weak, giving out unexpectedly. Even Jensen didn’t dare go that way, turning around whenever a door opened up to lead him there. And the man was going straight into it like he didn’t realize anything was wrong.

“Wait.” He made the choice before he was conscious of it, rushing forward out of the shadows to drag the man back just as the ground gave out under his foot. He lost balance, falling back into Jensen and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Have you been there the whole time?” The sorcerer asks, standing up and offering Jensen a hand which he takes warily. He nods, not sure he trusts his voice just yet. Everything in him screams to run away, run far away and never look back. But he can’t go now that the man has seen him. He doesn’t know why that is, but it is a fact as immutable as the fact that he is trapped in this castle until he dies. “Uh…thanks for saving me, I guess?”

“You’re welcome,” Jensen says, back away so there’s room for him to escape if he can break free of whatever spell he’s been placed under. He doesn’t sense any magic, but that’s the only reason he can come up with as for why he’s frozen in place. “What are you doing wandering around an abandoned castle anyway?”

“I’m a sorcerer,” the man says. Jensen rolls his eyes; as if it wasn’t obvious to anyone looking at him. The man looks slightly amused but doesn’t say anything about it. “I’m looking for the dragon. Who are you?”

“Jensen,” he answers. “I’ve been here for a while and I’ve never seen a dragon. I think whoever told you there was one here lied. Sorry to have wasted your time.” The man frowns, brows drawn together and lips pursed in a way that just looks funny. It’s like watching a soldier pretending to be a scholar. Really, it’s no wonder the man feels the need to state that he’s a sorcerer because his build lends more towards physical labor than laboring over books all day.

“How long have you been here?” He asks.

“Hey. Why don’t you tell me your name before you start asking personal questions?” Jensen is defensive, he is, but then he doesn’t have the best track records with people and even though he isn’t in chains yet doesn’t mean they aren’t coming. Plus, he lost track of the time a long time ago.

“Sorry. I’m Jared. Technically Adept Jared Pad a’lecki.” He cocks his head to the side slightly as if sizing Jensen up and Jensen swallows, realizing again exactly how tall the man is. Jensen has to look up to see his face and Jensen isn’t exactly short. But this man is obviously part giant or something because the only word Jensen can come up with to describe him is looming. “Are you sure there’s no dragon?”

“Pretty sure,” Jensen replies. He’s been everywhere around the castle. He would know if there was a giant fire-breathing dragon lurking somewhere. Except. “Maybe there’s something in the dungeon? I kind of avoid there. No use tempting fate, you know?”

“Of course. Uh…You wouldn’t know which way to go, would you?” He glances back at the passage he had been about to take. “Obviously that’s the wrong way.”

Jensen smiles, put at ease by Jared which would be kind of worrisome if the guy wasn’t so genuinely likeable. An idea strikes him and he decides to roll with it. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you’re up for it.”

Sorcerers like challenges, Jensen knows. They’re always trying to one up each other. Plus, any sorcerer hoping to get a blessing from a dragon is ambitious and Jensen can use Jared’s ambition in his favor. “What deal?”

“I’ll help you find the dragon, or proof that it doesn’t exist, if you help me get out. There’s some kind of spell that keeps me from leaving and I’m pretty sure my family is missing me.” He doesn’t know, not really. His memories are all of the castle, but they’re all fairly recent. None of being a child. None of being younger than he is now, actually.

“Deal,” Jared says eagerly. Jensen could see the spark in his eye at the challenge and knew he judged right. Spells like the ones binding Jensen are rare and difficult and anyone who could break it would learn so much. It’s old magic, the kind practiced hundreds of years ago and kept hidden away in family tomes not available to just anyone, certainly not a novice like Jared. Breaking it would prove he was worthy of becoming a master and for the first time Jensen is glad that all sorcerers are the same.

  


He isn’t sure if whatever magic makes the castle move at will would work with someone else following him, but he hopes it does because the walk to the dungeon would be long without it. Jared had gone up and West when the dungeon is under the east wing. His fears are unfounded when they turn a corner and end up in the east wing a floor above where they started. From there it’s a simple matter of climbing down any stair case. In two flights they’re down so far Jensen can see his breath come out in puffs of white air and Jared is shivering behind him.

“You can warm yourself up,” Jensen says. The cold doesn’t affect him, but it never has. Heat doesn’t either and if he had cared to explore it more there would probably be something strange about that. “Nothing’s going to jump out and attack you. Promise.”

He doesn’t know how he can keep that promise, but he just knows he can. Besides, Jared is his way out and he doesn’t want the kid to die from frostbite or something, because that would be kind of tragic really. He feels Jared gather his magic and then the air is slightly warmer. He appreciates the effort Jared is exerting to extend the warmth to Jensen and doesn’t bother saying that it’s unnecessary. They go another flight before the spiral stairs open up into a huge cavern, much further than even Jensen’s eyes can see and he’s good with the dark.

And there, lying center in the room, are giant chains. Giant, empty, chains. No other solution comes to mind except a dragon. Nothing else would fit in them, and Jensen is suddenly really glad he hasn’t seen the dragon. Wherever it is, it must have escaped before Jensen was trapped. While he’s still eyeing the chains, rubbing his wrist absently, Jared walks forward and picks something up off the ground. By the time Jensen realizes, Jared has already read a few pages and his face is doing that frowning thing again.

The words, and Jensen assumes that’s what they are, are in a language Jensen has no hopes of deciphering. They’re just lines on a page for him, but Jared is obviously entranced. Times passes and Jensen grows bored. Jared is sitting on the ground, still reading as if nothing else in the world exists. Every so often he looks up, getting an expression on his face like his mind is a million miles away before looking down again. Sometimes he looks at Jensen, frowns, and shakes his head.

Jensen doesn’t like to sit still and explores, walking as far in one direction as he dares before turning around and heading another way. He makes sure never to walk so far away that he can’t see the light from Jared’s torch, but no matter how far he goes he never reaches an end. The longer they’re down there the more convinced he is that the dragon is somewhere here, hiding, and Jared is going to insist they look for it.

There are huge gouge marks in the rock, some so deep that Jensen has to walk around them. The sight isn’t reassuring and Jensen finds his way back to Jared. For some reason being near the sorcerer seems safer, even though he’s pretty sure the guy wouldn’t be much use against a dragon that can cut through rock with his claws. In fact, the safest thing would probably be to run away and leave Jared down there to attract the dragon and hopefully appease it with his death.

Jared is done reading when Jensen got back, sitting on the edge of a stair with one leg propped up and the other extended out. His eyes meet Jensen’s and it is immediately obvious that the tall sorcerer figured something out. Jensen jogs the rest of the distance but stops when Jared stands, hands held in front of him pointed at Jensen.

“What’s that about? Did you figure something out?” He’s wary now, not sure what the look is in Jared’s eyes but not really wanting to get close enough to see. He moves slowly forward.

“What do you remember happened when you first came here?” Jared asks. Jensen frowns, confused.

“Not much. It’s all kind of a blur to be honest. Why do you ask?”

“Do you remember who the king was?”

“Sure. Barius IX. What’s with the questions?” Jared closes his eyes and Jensen steps forward again. He’s close enough now that he could reach out and touch Jared.

“And how old are you?”

“What kind of question is that?” Jensen asks, startled. “I’m 27. Or 26. Uh…I don’t really remember. Trapped in a castle, remember?”

What Jared does next startles Jensen into action. He feels the power being drawn, huge stores of it, more than anyone else Jensen has ever seen. His reaction is instinctive and stupid. The stupidity doesn’t escape him even as he does it, reaching forward and grabbing the sorcerer to disrupt him. A flash of light briefly illuminates the entire dungeon, radiating out from where Jensen’s hand is resting above Jared’s heart and knocking them both away.

  


It’s Jared who recovers first, standing up and swaying before steading himself. His blinking is fast, as if he’s clearing the spots out. Jensen stands a moment later, keeping his distance because he no longer knows what to do here. The situation is out of his control. He isn’t sure what that light was or why Jared looks like he saw a ghost or why his lips are moving and no sound is coming out.

“Can you hear me?” Jared’s talking fast, frantic, and Jensen strains to listen.

“Sorry,” he says, not sure why he’s apologizing to the man who just tried to kill him.

“I said we have to go. That light will draw ever soldier within a dozen miles. I’ll explain when we get out but just have to get out.” And because Jared’s speaking so earnestly, Jensen can’t argue. He follows, realizing belatedly that it won’t work to get out fast until Jensen is in the lead so he surges forward finding the strength from some reserve he didn’t know he had.

It’s obvious right away that his trick isn’t working and he turns around to tell Jared that when he ricochets off something and comes close to breaking his neck falling down the stairs if not for the strong arms that catch him. He doesn’t gasp, but the breath is knocked out of him and his senses are overwhelmed with the stench of magic. Except this time the magic doesn’t feel hostile and he’s more than happy to step aside so Jared can advance, hands  and eyes glowing, to step through the barrier. Jensen thinks he hears a faint ‘pop’ and then Jared motions for him to come forward.

“Nice trick,” Jensen says, resuming the lead. Even though the doors and turns aren’t going to give him short cuts, he’s still the one who knows every corner of the castle.  

“That was the easy part,” he says, breathing increasing as they round flight after flight. Jensen wants to ask what that means but they reach the door on the main level and he throws it open without a second thought. Once again, Jared is the one who saves him, yanking him to the side just in time for something to come flying at them.

“What was that?” Jensen asks, head darting around in an attempt to get a lock on what just attacked them. It smells like stale magic, he thinks. Like the magic he sometimes gets a hint of when he’s all alone in the middle of the night. But then it is fleeting and now it’s growing stronger and stronger.

“Wraith,” Jared says grimly. His expression doesn’t give Jensen much confidence in the sorcerer’s ability to handle the situation and Jensen sure as hell won’t be much good. Sure, he has a knack at sniffing out magic, but he can’t seem to use the stuff himself. He tried, once, and he woke up hours later with a pounding in his head that refused to let up even three days later.

“Please tell me you can handle it,” he says, shoving himself up from where he fell after Jared’s pull.

“I can handle it,” Jared returns. “I think.” Before Jensen can get another word in, the smell is back and it seems to be focused somewhere in behind Jensen and then he’s flying through the air and is pressed against the wall, eyes wide and pleading with Jared. Jared turns quick and his entire body is glowing while his lips move silently. Jensen would be struck by how beautiful he looks with his hair pushed back and his jaw set, if he didn’t feel like there was a thousand pounds pressing into his chest threatening to rip the air from his lungs.

“H…lp.” His sight is starting to go dark and if he could curse he would. His legs and arms are flailing but they can’t seem to make contact with anything, like the wraith or whatever it is doesn’t even exist. Just before he does surrender to the black, the weight is gone and he crashes to the floor once again, not even pretending he isn’t in a heap.

“Sorry. I was never good with combating spirits. That’s why I take precaution to keep them from bothering me.” Jensen opens his mouth to mention the salt ring but all that comes out is a dry cough. Jared’s hand rubs soothing circles on his back keep him grounded until the fit passes and he stands on shaky legs.

“Let’s not do that again, yeah?” He chokes out, checking his body for any other injuries but finding none. There isn’t even a sign that something was there except for the cracks in the stone where Jensen was pushed up against the wall.

“I think once we get out of the castle we should be okay,” Jared says.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jensen shoves off against the wall, moving forward at a more subdued pace. He seems to be healing but his chest hurts and he thinks he may have broken ribs. If he could stop he thinks he would be able to feel them healing and he wonders if Jared is healing him while they’re running and is mildly impressed. He doesn’t smell magic.

They pass through several more traps, some which require Jared to break through and some as simple as a cave in they barely make it under before it cuts off the hallway. Jensen is mourning his castle, the place that has been his home for all of the life that he remembers. They are almost free when Jensen hears the rumbling and knows something is coming for them. He doesn’t sense magic, but his nose burns with the smell of damp and moss and rot. Jared’s breathing heavily and he has several scrapes from where he lost his footing and fell. His robes are torn and stained with dirt and dust and blood. Whatever is coming for them, the sorcerer is clearly in no shape to face.

“I think it’s a minotaur,” Jensen says, surprising himself. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he does. The smell is right. He also knows that once a minotaur has a scent, it will fight to the death. Their skin is impervious to magic as well, so Jared’s weakness doesn’t even matter.

A few seconds later, Jensen turns to see the beast barreling down the hall, shoulders so broad they  rip into the walls but it doesn’t seem to slow him down at all. When he’s almost on them, Jensen reacts instinctively, putting himself between the beast and Jared. His first good look at it terrifies him and he wants to run.

It has moss growing on huge horns that are lowered to skewer whoever it runs into. The body is vaguely man shaped, although Jensen has never seen so broad or tall before. His skin is almost glowing in the dark, as if sunlight is a foreign concept, and there are scrapes on his skin that are covered in dirt and scabs and also provide the source of the smell of the rot.

Jensen just has time to realize what a stupid idea this is before the monster is crashing in to him, pushing him back even as he digs his heels in. Somehow he managed to wrap his arms around one of the horns instead of being impaled and he uses it as leverage. It isn’t until the minotaur is stopped, tossing it’s head – or trying to since it seems unable to move much and is mostly flailing – that he feels the strength coursing through his body. He wants to look at Jared to see if he’s doing anything since the smell of rotten breath is currently all he can smell, but he’s busy pushing the monster back.

“Go away,” he growls, voice low. Talking to a monster is probably a stupid idea, but Jensen doesn’t know what else to do. He continues pushing it back down the hall, grunting with the effort but never faltering or giving an inch. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

He has another burst of strength and he hears something snap. The minotaur collapses, bone sticking out of one of his legs and he howls in pain and impotent rage. Jensen stops pushing, panting against the wall as the monster wails. He doesn’t even realize until there is a hand on his shoulder and he turns to look at Jared. “He’s in pain. You have to kill him.”

It should be harder to do, Jensen thinks. Killing something like the minotaur shouldn’t take a few seconds and it shouldn’t be easy, but it is. He nods in response to Jared and takes a deep breath. His hands find the right spot, one holding a horn and one just under his jaw, and he yanks. There’s a tight pop as the screams suddenly stop and he collapses onto the ground.

“Jensen…” He turns to see Jared looking hesitant, hands out stretched but no magic visible. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says. Fine is about the last thing he’s feeling, but he can’t think about the fact that he just killed something with his bare hands. Something that should have been able to rip him to pieces. His hands are shaking but he forces them to still, standing up straight and nodding. “We’re almost there.”

  


Jared is the one who opens the door and it opens to the outside world and Jensen has to stop. Jared grabs his wrist, pulling him forward as though it’s as easy to leave as just walking through a door. It is, though, because then they’re standing in the courtyard and then running across it and then they’re out on grass and Jensen thinks he can just fall over and kiss it, it’s been so long. He turns to Jared, huge smile on his face like he doesn’t quite believe what’s happening.

When he does fall to the ground, it’s in agony. He feels like his bones are ripping out of his skin and he knows this is the curse. He’s going to die here because he left. Death would be welcome; preferable to the pain that feels like his entire body is on fire and the skin is boiling off. There’s one point where the pain hurts the most and he is just conscious enough to see that it’s where Jared’s hand is resting over his heart.

Jared’s lips are moving but his words sound like gibberish. Jensen wonders if he’s so far gone that he can’t understand speech but then cold dread hits him and he realizes that Jared is the one doing this to him. It’s a spell of some kind, a spell to kill him in the most painful way possible. Except Jared’s face looks worried, not angry or vindictive or any number of emotions that would make sense. He’s shaking with the power of it and that doesn’t help because why would he waste so much to kill Jensen when there’s a thousand easier ways that would be equally painful.

Another tremor racks his body and he arches his back into Jared’s hand, the pain pooling and trying to escape. When his eyes are open, they’re on Jared, but the pain forces them closed too often. Finally the pain builds to a crescendo and then Jared is getting smaller and smaller, his hand fallen away as he looks at Jensen. His lips are no longer moving but the words are still roaring in Jensen’s ears. Just when he’s sure the pain will kill him, the world stills and Jensen realizes it isn’t Jared who is smaller but Jensen who is bigger.

He unfurls his wings – wings! – and raises himself off the ground. He aims his neck up, fire burning his throat and escaping his closed jaws. He opens them, directing the stream of fire with his tongue until it burns out. His legs are clumsy at first, and he’s vaguely aware of someone down below avoiding getting stepped on but his excitement is too great to spare a thought for anything else. Finally, he is free.

Pain sprouts in the joint between his wing and his back, and another spot at the joint of neck and head and he turns sharply away from the castle to see men wearing metal and carrying weapons. He launches himself into the air with several strokes of his broad wings. Arrows glance off his armored belly but before more than one round can be released he’s too far away for them to hurt him.

Flying is the most freeing experience of his life. He gets to his village in a matter of seconds, watching the people scatter and wishing he could reassure them he isn’t going to hurt them. They hold a place in his heart, the only break from monotony for a hundred years of his imprisonment. But then he is past them, flying towards the setting sun as his muscles start to warm up and ache in a way that makes him aware that it has been centuries trapped in the form of a human.

Maybe it’s that thought that reminds him of the sorcerer who saved him, or maybe it’s the sight of a lone traveler on the road. Either way, he remembers and he realizes he left the man who saved him to die. He flips does a back flip, spinning to right himself in the middle of it as he speeds back. This time, with the wind behind him and urgency pressing him, he makes the distance in under a minute.

From the village he can see Jared is struggling. He has a shield up, but it’s flagging under the onslaught and it won’t hold much longer. Maybe not even long enough for Jensen to make it. It holds, barely, and the men scramble out of the way as Jensen lands with Jared between his front legs, sheltered. Jensen’s long neck snaps forward, teeth grabbing a soldier and throwing him a hundred yards away. He was dead the second he hit the ground.

Flame held most of them off, but their shields protected them from the worst of it. After that first man, the rest stayed out of the way of his teeth and the only way he could get them was to leave Jared vulnerable. But once they were clear, the bows came back out and Jensen knew a well-placed arrow could blind or kill him and then he would be no use to Jared. He wished he could speak, but his jaws refused to form words. He never needed to speak with humans before.

“You go,” Jared shouted. Jensen needed no further encouragement, snapping his wings open and jumping enough that he wouldn’t catch Jared in his take off. From above, the soldiers were vulnerable to the fire. But so was Jared. He snapped his jaw shut, stemming the flow just before he got to close to the sorcerer.

Even exhausted, Jared could fight. It became obvious that battle magic was his forte and it was no wonder he’d sought out a dragon for his blessing. Jensen lands, the soldiers between him and Jared but he can feel the sorcerer anyhow. It’s almost as if…Jensen growls, tail swiping out and knocking a soldier and horse to the side. Someone is tapping into his power! The audacity of the action enrages him and it’s only when he realizes it’s Jared that he calms down and stops fighting. He has the energy to spare.

The few seconds distraction is enough for the soldiers and several of them ride forward, swords out and slashing. They glance harmlessly off his scales, but then one slides through the membranes of his wing. The soldier is dead a moment later but the others follow his lead, finding the weak spots and hacking away at them. He fights, but his energy is failing and there are too many of them.

Flight is an impossibility now, tears making his wings worse than useless. They are dead weights dragging the ground, unable to even be held in out of the way for fear of damaging them further. His neck and face are bleeding green and Jared is still draining him. Whatever Jared is doing will take a lot of power, and Jensen only hopes it works especially if it kills him in the process.

Just before the last of his fight is gone, all of the soldiers drop dead, a single hold in their foreheads. The horses bolt, some riderless and some with dead soldiers flapping on their back. Jared is alive; that much Jensen can see. He’s alive and glowing and moving towards Jensen in leaps and bounds that mean he’s using magic. His mouth is open, screaming something, but Jensen can’t hear anything.

Dragons are strong, they can hibernate for decades and heal from any wounds, but Jensen knows if his body shuts down here he will be killed before he has time to heal. He needs somewhere safe to stay, somewhere people can’t find him. When he tries to open his wings, they twitch and fall to the ground. He won’t be leaving the ground any time soon. Walking is his only option, and he lumbers up, taking a few halting steps before he falls to the ground with a thud and his body refuses to obey him.

His eyes open later, years or minutes or hours he can’t be sure. There’s a shadow between him and the sun and his body hurts but his wings aren’t aching anymore. He can’t feel them at all and if he wasn’t so out of it he would panic. All he can do is be grateful for the respite. The shape above him resolves into human form and he realizes it’s Jared, and his mouth is moving. He must be doing some kind of spell, Jensen thinks numbly.

“-please don’t be dead. Come on, Jen. Wake up.” There’s something akin to heartbreak in his voice and when a tear lands on Jensen’s cheek he realizes the sorcerer is…crying? Why would a human cry for him? He opens his mouth to speak but it’s dry and his tongue won’t move. “What?”

“I said; it’ll take more than a few dozen soldiers to keep me down.” His lips, funny, how they already seem so foreign after only a few hours in his real form, are still hard to move but they form the words. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m not going to leave you,” he says. “I tried to heal you but it rolled off so I turned you back into a human. It’s not perfect but you won’t die from your wounds. I’d turn you back but I wasn’t sure…” He looks guilty, like he’s expecting Jensen to attack him. It’s almost like he’s bashful, afraid to ask something. The pieces click in to place and Jensen understands why Jared went through the trouble of saving him.

“I’m too weak now to give you the blessing, but when I’m stronger…”

“You already did,” Jared cuts him off, pulling his hand off of Jensen’s shoulder to tug his robe down to reveal a tattoo above his heart. “That’s what the light was down there. The book explained what happened to the drag – to you – and I was going to turn you back right there but you broke my concentration and I think it kind of…corrupted the blessing. I can take energy from you now. I imagine it would work both ways but I’m not sure and oh my god I cannot believing I’m having this conversation with a dragon. I thought I was going to get fried to a crisp.”

“Not a good time for you to have a breakdown,” Jensen says, laughing a little until it makes him start to see stars. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really in any shape to hurt anyone.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” Jared took a deep breath and looked back down at Jensen. “I should be good to help a little more in a few hours, but I could really use something to eat. And then I can reverse the spell and you can leave if you want.”

“I need to find my family,” he says. A pained look crosses Jared’s face and Jensen’s suspicions are confirmed. “I’m the last, aren’t I? They’re all dead?”

“I can’t know for sure but…yes, I think so. About fifty years ago the Brothers led a crusade against the dragons. I might find something at the college that could help, but I had to dig deep to find even the hint of a rumor of your existence. I’m sorry.” He looks sorry, too. Jensen can see it in the lines on his face and the hint of moisture in his eyes.

“Why would you help me? Shouldn’t you kill me? Wouldn’t there be a reward?” His words are bitter but Jared doesn’t flinch.

“I know you,” Jared says. “I mean, I want to know you better but I think saving each other’s lives gives a unique perspective.” Jensen doesn’t know what to say to that so he says nothing. Jared frowns, as if expecting a bigger reaction to his words. Jensen is just going to open his mouth to say something when he feels lips on his.

The feeling is strange in the way this body is strange. It’s good, though, too good. Jared’s lips move against his, coaxing him to relax and he gives in even though he knows now he could fight. It isn’t something he was expecting and he thinks maybe he missed the signs but then Jared pulls away and Jensen moans the loss, biting his lip at the empty feeling. Jared’s eyes are questioning, and he’s hovering close but too far for Jensen to reach.

“So…you did get the part about me not being human, right?” He tries to smile at the joke, to show that he doesn’t mean the words to sound like a rejection. “Dragon. Wings. Fire. Any of that ringing a bell?”

“Kind of difficult to miss,” Jared says. “I’m sorry I just…”

“You’re really going to have to stop apologizing.” Jared’s face goes from pained to confused in less than a second. “Especially if you want me to put up with you.”

“You want…” There’s hope in his eyes as the last ray of sunlight form a halo of light around his body and it looks like he is on fire.

“Seems like I leave you alone for a second and a minotaur or an army tries to kill you. It would be pretty crappy of you to die after I wasted all that energy giving you that blessing.” He feels better now, not healed but no longer paralyzed with pain so he sits up and tangles his hands in the front of Jared’s torn and dirty robes. “So I think we’re kind of stuck with each other.” Jared’s answer is to kiss him again, and that’s enough of an answer for Jensen.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Written for the spn-reversebang for the art by the amazing InannaMaat. Check out all of the stuff produced by this awesome challenge.


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